


Condolences

by rubysreign



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, M/M, also sam is dead so, i feel like reaper!cas should be more of a thing, reaper!Cas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1441387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubysreign/pseuds/rubysreign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean stood slowly, more out of confusion than pain. Which is exactly why he was confused.<br/>How does someone not feel any pain, hell how do they not die, after being stabbed in the chest?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Condolences

Dean stood slowly, more out of confusion than pain. Which is exactly why he was confused.

How does someone not feel any pain, hell how do they not die, after being stabbed in the chest?

 

 

He remembers it clearly. Dean was checking out an old, musty warehouse for a case. He thought it was nothing, and was about to head back to the motel and start from square one when he heard a noise echo through the empty building. Normally Dean wouldn’t have heard it, but Sam was six feet under and reliving his favourite moments or something now. Lucky bastard.

 

Dean followed where the loud grunt came from through an office door near the back of the warehouse. It started to smell and he scrunched up his nose in disgust. He then started following the stink, and soon enough Dean found four missing women that’d been reported.

 

“Yahtzee,” Dean sighed, walking past the putrid corpses and counting them.

 

How many were missing again? Rolling his eyes up, he tried to remember what the newspaper and the officer at the station said. Five women went missing. He did another head count, and then raised his gun as Dean headed towards the door in the corner.

 

When he walked through, Dean only had a couple seconds to look around and see the fifth woman lying on the ground like the others. Only she wasn’t as lifeless, blood was gurgling and bubbling past her lips as her eyelids began to droop. She had deep cuts and slashes all along her skin, and her clothing was torn and soaked with crimson.

Then suddenly red was staining his shirt, and Dean’s chest was burning. He looked at the blade as it slid out from between his ribs. His gaze followed up to the machete’s handle, to the arm extended in perfect form, to the body hanging from the ceiling. Black eyes stared back.

 

Then the shadows began to expand from the corners of the room, until all he could see, hear, feel, and breath, was darkness.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Dean Winchester,”

Dean spun around and was met with a person. His blue eyes bore into his, and Dean stared. His eyes taking in the other man’s dark, tousled hair and his clothing: a tan trench coat, crappy suit, and a crooked blue tie. He’s not the demon though; he could hear it cackling behind him. Legitimately cackling and muttering, like some sort of demonic witch.

 

“The little fucker’s finally out of the way,” He heard it say, tearing Dean’s attention away from the visitor’s unblinking eyes.

 

Turning around again to face the demon, Dean saw why it sounded to proud of itself.

When he saw the unholy bastard gloating over Dean’s unmoving corpse, it all clicked into place.

 

You can’t feel any pain if you’re dead.

 

“Condolences,”

 

After a beat Dean snorts, “So you’re my reaper then huh?” he replied, turning back to face him.

 

A curt nod is how he responds, then after several seconds he follows that with his name, “I am Castiel.” He says.

 

His rough voice is enough of a distraction from the creepy ass demon behind him and he’s dead anyway so what the hell, why not talk about feelings?

 

“This is a bit disappointing isn’t it?”

 

“How so?” Castiel asks, tilting his head slightly.

 

He takes a breath, gathering his thoughts. “I always thought I’d go out with a bang ya know? I thought it’d be Bowser who ganked me, not some punk ass Goomba” Castiel’s head tilts a little further and his brow furrows but Dean continues on, raising his voice, “I thought maybe I’d be given that, a badass exit that would’ve actually done some good. But apparently that’s too much to ask for. Even with all the shit I’ve gone through, the lives I saved, I still get jack squat every goddamn time.

 

I couldn’t even get a decent death. No, I get a cocky demon standing over my body to match his collection of dead women I couldn’t save!”

 

“Life isn’t–

 

“I swear to god if you finish that sentence with the word ‘fair’,” Dean interrupts, letting the unfinished threat hang in the air between them.

 

The other man stands there, staring at Dean for several minutes. Just staring, unblinking and so blue. Dean starts to fidget under the man’s scrutiny, suddenly regretting the unsaid threat.

 

Then Castiel’s head is bowing and his voice comes gliding from his lips with such sincerity it takes Dean a few moments to let the other man’s words sink under his skin. “I am sorry.” And it’s relieving him somehow and calming him down.

 

Dean has a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth, and he doesn’t know why it’s there but he likes it, “Yeah. Yeah, I know,” He says quietly. Then after a moment, “Now come on Cas, I’ve got more people I wanna see on the other side then I do here”

 

Castiel has a matching smile dusting over his features as he extends his hand. Dean takes a step forward and places his calloused palm against Castiel’s warm and inviting one.

 

They’re standing next to each other, strong and confident with their expressions calm and satisfied. “Thank you,” Dean breathes.

 

Then space is shifting and light is blinding him. He opens his eyes and is met with bright, colourful sparks flying into the dark sky. He feels a breeze over his cheeks but Dad’s leather jacket is warding off the rest of himself from the chill. He hears Sam squealing and dancing in front of the fireworks.

 

Dean sighs and lets his small smile spread until crinkles fold by the corner of his eyes.

 

There’s a larger gust of wind and for a second Dean thinks he hears the air whispering, “Your welcome, Dean.”


End file.
